


Only a Taste

by writeatmidnight



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Dubious Consent, M/M, Mind Games, Mindfuck, Non Consensual, Possessive Behavior
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-08
Updated: 2013-05-08
Packaged: 2017-12-10 20:24:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/789787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writeatmidnight/pseuds/writeatmidnight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the ASOIAF Kink Meme. Prompt: Before sending Theon to Pyke, Robb tests Theon's loyalty to his cause. (Perhaps just an excuse to finally do what he wants to Theon? Perhaps Theon is really bitter about it and it obviously leads to his betrayal?) -Robb/Theon, dubcon</p>
            </blockquote>





	Only a Taste

**Author's Note:**

> This got dark. And depressing. I would say this is definitely on the very edge of what would be considered dubcon for a lot of people, which is why I marked it as both dubcon and noncon. Also, Ramsay makes an appearance at the end, but it isn't sexual.

“The king wants you,” they told Theon in the middle of the night. The two men waited at the entrance to his tent, watching while he got out of bed clumsy with sleep and threw on whichever clothes he could find quickly. Then they escorted him, one on each side, through the camp and straight to Robb's door, as though they thought he might try to bolt otherwise. As though he hadn't fought beside them in battle. There they left him, with the king.

“They believe I shouldn't send you,” Robb said as soon as Theon walked through the tent flap. His fingers were tight around the edge of the table, knuckles white. He looked up, watching Theon step into the wavering light. “They think you've convinced me to send you to Pyke and that you'll betray me as soon as I let you out of my sight. Some of them are quite sure of it.”

Theon had known it would come eventually, yet it still managed to sting. “They're wrong,” he said, because there was nothing else to say when accused of treachery without having actually done anything. How could he prove himself innocent of something that hadn't happened?

Robb's hair was a curly mess, his clothes loose and rumpled. He looked like someone who had gotten up in the dark of night, unable to find sleep. He said, “Tell me you won't be tempted once you're out on that water sailing back to Pyke.”

“I won't be tempted. You know I've fought loyally by your side. I've pledged myself to your cause.”

“But you'll be free of us,” Robb said so quietly that Theon had to strain to hear it. “For the first time in years, you'll be free.”

Theon came closer, put his hands flat on the table opposite Robb, so Robb could see his face clearly in the dim light. “You think that's the only reason I've fought for you? I risked my life a dozen times over for you out there. You truly believe I would go that far just because I'm a ward of your family? Just to prove I'm a good little hostage?”

“You've never had to prove your loyalty to me, because you've never had the freedom to betray me.”

Theon found himself gripping the table just as hard as Robb, his fingers aching with it. “Never had the freedom? I could have stabbed you in the middle of battle if I had wanted to betray you so badly.”

Somehow it had turned into a face-off across the narrow width of the table. Robb leaned in, putting their faces uncomfortably close. In the firelight, Theon could see that Robb's eyes had gone hard and sharp, like they did in the midst of battle. Now those eyes flicked up and down Theon's face once and got caught on the V of his open shirt, loose because he hadn't had a chance to lace it up. Theon followed Robb's eyes, glanced down at the trailing lacings, unsure of what Robb was trying to see in him. Signs of betrayal in his untidy clothing? Disloyalty etched on his chest? It couldn't be desire, though that's what it looked like in the instant Robb looked away from him. He had to have misread that expression.

Theon said, “I fought by your side even though we aren't blood. We're not family, yet I risked my life for you. Does that count for nothing?”

Robb lifted his eyes, swallowing hard as he did so, and said, “We both know that you wouldn't have gotten away with betraying me out there in battle, surrounded by my men. I can't take the risk that you'll use this first opportunity to turn your cloak. I can't test you now, like that, not when there's so much at stake.”

Heat flared in Theon's chest. His skin felt suddenly hot and damp. After all they had been through, this was what came of it? It was ludicrous. “So you're going to send someone else to treat with the Greyjoys? With my own father? _I'm_ the best one for it. If he'll listen to any of us, it'll be me. You know that's the truth.”

“I might still send you yet,” Robb said, his voice low. A muscle in his jaw started to jump. “But first I need to know you're mine. Loyal to me and only me. I need to prove it to myself as well as to my men.”

“I kneeled before you and called you my king. What else do you want of me? I don't have anything to give you but my word and my sword on the battlefield.”

“You don't understand, Theon,” Robb said, his voice rising. He stopped and just breathed for a moment. When he spoke again his voice had changed entirely, to something low and rough that Theon had never heard from him. “They believe you hold too much sway over me. I need to show them that letting you leave is my decision, not yours, and that I did it because I can use you and know that you won't play me false. They need to see that I have control over you, not the other way around.”

Theon spread his hands on the table, fingers splayed, nails digging into the hard wood. “It sounds like many have already made up their minds about me.” Robb's eyes were around his mouth now, closely following the words as Theon said them. _Watching for lies to form right out of my mouth_ , Theon thought. _It's not just his men. He doesn't trust me either._ “What could I possibly say to prove them wrong?”

Robb took in a long breath, let it out slowly. Theon was surprised to see tiny beads of sweat on his forehead.

“There's nothing you can say,” Robb told him, leaned over the table, and pressed his lips against Theon's. Really, it was nothing more than mere contact, but shock had Theon jerking back from the table, away from Robb's mouth.

“What are you doing?” Theon said. He brought the back of his hand to his mouth, almost as if Robb had hit him instead of kissed him, ready to wipe away blood. But of course there was no blood. Theon let his hand fall to his side.

“Would it be so bad?” Robb said from across the table. There it was again, that low private voice, in a tone Theon had never heard before, one that was edged with doubt and finality.

Theon shook his head. The pieces had been strewn, and he couldn't quite put it together fast enough to follow. “What are you talking about?”

“You've slept with so many. How many women have you been with since we left Winterfell? This would be only another bedding to you.”

Theon stared at him over the table. Sweat glistened on Robb's face quite obviously now, but Theon felt suddenly cold in his thin night shirt. He folded his arms across his chest, said with the least amount of emotion he could manage, “You want me to sleep with you to prove my loyalty? That's my test? Bed the king?”

Robb stood still and straight. There was no emotion in his features, just hardness, but his eyes betrayed him, skittering down Theon's body and then back up to his face. At the back of his throat, Theon could taste the bland camp fare they'd had for dinner hours ago.

“By the end of the night, it will be done and over like all the rest you've bedded,” Robb said.

 _No it won't_ , Theon thought. _Because I thought we were like brothers, and brothers don't bed one another._

“No,” Theon said. “No, I won't do this. Sex doesn't have anything to do with loyalty. It's just sex.”

“I won't force you,” Robb said. His expression had turned into a hard mask that Theon couldn't read. “It's your choice. But know that I won't be able to send you to Pyke if you don't do this.”

Theon recognized it for the threat that it was. If he didn't do this, he wouldn't be allowed any further than Robb's immediate vicinity. He would be kept in sight like a misbehaving child. Without even realizing what he was doing, he turned his back to Robb. He saw the tent's entrance as if in a dream. It was right there, maybe ten steps away. He started toward it, unable to see anything but his access to quick escape. Somewhere away from Robb. He needed to be away from Robb.

“Theon,” Robb said, and the authority in it made Theon pause with his hand already on the tent flap, ready to pull it back and duck out into the cold night air. “You should know that the idea to test you in this way was not mine alone.”

Theon pulled his hand back from his only escape. He straightened, turned back around to face Robb. “They know that's why you brought me in here tonight?”

“Not all of them. Only my closest men knew that I was going test you tonight, and how I was going to do it.”

Theon found himself crossing the room in several large strides. The table was between them again, and Theon slammed his palms down onto it. “The men standing guard outside this tent, the ones who escorted me here—do they know?”

“Yes,” Robb said calmly.

“How many others?”

“Half a dozen or so.”

“Are you completely mad? It will never stay at just a handful of men. Everyone will hear of it eventually. They'll know that we didn't—that I didn't pass your,” he spat the word at Robb, “ _test_. It'll only prove to them that I'm a traitor. That's all they'll see. They'll slit my throat in my sleep!” Robb said nothing, and Theon had never in his life so badly wanted to hit someone. “Why are you doing it this way? We've been together half our lives, and I've never done anything to you. Why are you backing me into a corner?”

Finally, _finally_ , Robb looked away from him. And for a moment, Theon thought _maybe, maybe_ —

But Robb steadied himself. “Because I have also been backed into a corner. This is the only way to keep you in my confidence. I have to _show_ them that I have you firmly under my control. It's your choice, but if you walk out right now, it's done.”

“No. You're the _king_. It's your choice.”

“Make a decision, Theon. I know it's not what either of us wants, but I have a duty. This is the only way I have found to prove your allegiance once and for all. It'll be a fast and efficient solution. You can still go to Pyke.”

 _I don't have a choice. He has me trapped._ Theon almost laughed. He saw the absurdity of the situation now, of all the times that he had thought of Robb as someone who could be a brother to him. All of it was a joke. Robb had never been a brother to him, and had never thought of him as such.

“So that's it, then?” With one sweep of his arm across the table, Theon sent all of the maps and plans flying to the ground. “Go on, Your Grace. Bend me over the table. Or do you even know how it works between two men?”

“I know,” Robb said, cool as winter, “how it works. Are you agreeing to do this?”

Theon gave him his widest sneer. “Yes, I am agreeing.” _He asks as though I actually have a choice_ , Theon thought, but didn't say aloud. He reached for the bottom of his shirt to yank it off. If it was going to happen, best to get it over with quickly.

Robb had sidestepped the table and was in front of Theon in a matter of seconds. He stilled Theon's hands, pulled them away from his shirt. “Let me,” he said.

 _He wants to undress me_ , Theon realized. It was an unsettling thought. Something about it seemed too planned, too well thought-out. A quick bedding did not begin with a slow unwrapping.

Robb took the hem and dragged the fabric up his torso, taking his time. Theon raised his arms, and Robb lifted it over his head and dropped it to the floor. He touched his fingertips to Theon's ribs, and the contact surprised Theon, made his stomach muscles jerk. Robb swept his hands down Theon's sides, up his chest, fingers over his collarbone, drinking him in through touch.

“You've seen me naked dozens of times over the years,” Theon said. Had Robb ever looked at him like this before? How could Theon have never noticed such an intimate, starved look? He always noticed these things, especially when they were aimed in his direction. He prided himself on noticing a look, a glance, an invitation. But when it came to Robb, the thought had never crossed his mind. There had never been a time when he had hoped for a look from Robb, so perhaps he had missed it altogether. It hurt to admit to himself that he could have been that oblivious.

“Yes,” Robb said. “I have seen you. And I always—” He shook his head.

“Always what?” Theon said, already knowing now.

Robb looked up at him, met his eyes. “I've always wanted to touch.”

Unsure of what to say to that, he watched Robb as he fiddled with the lacings on Theon's pants. “For how long?” Theon asked.

“Several years now.”

“Why didn't you tell me?”

“Have you ever done this before,” Robb said in answer, “with a man?”

“You know I only bed women.”

“Which is why I never told you.”

Moving faster now, Robb untied the loose pants Theon had pulled on when he had been summoned out of bed. They slipped easily down his legs.

Robb's eyes shivered up and down Theon, then quickly away. They swept over to the bed, past the table, and then he said, “We'll do it on the ground.”

“The ground?”

“Yes, the ground.”

_Like animals. Why do we have to do this at all?_

“Robb,” he said, “there are other ways to show loyalty. Don't send me to Pyke right away if you think I might betray you for my family. Send me to treat with others first. I can win houses to your side. Give me the chance.”

Robb ran a hand down his face, pressed his fingers to his mouth, but looked Theon in the eyes. “I can't do that. This is what has already been decided, and I can't go back on that decision now. Without a doubt, they will know that you talked me out of it. I can't be seen as easily swayed right now, least of all by you. It would be detrimental. It would only prove them correct about our relationship.”

“Since when do you let your men make the decisions?”

Robb's gaze left Theon's face, wandered over his naked body, lingering in places. “They didn't make this decision,” he said, focus wavering as he got caught up in staring.

Theon swallowed the anger that was rising up his throat. “Are you saying that it was it your idea to test me like this?”

“Yes, I came up with the idea, and they agreed that it was the best course of action.” He said it with no shame, and that somehow made it worse.

“Is this what you've wanted from me all along?”

Robb flattened his lips into a tight line. “I've wanted your loyalty.”

“You already have it.”

“I need to be sure of it. I need to show them we're solid. That you're completely with us.”

 _He wants to do this, and he wants to be the one with all the power when he does it. And he didn't tell me how little he thought of me until he was made a king and could just take what he wanted from me._ The realization came quickly, like a blade sliding into his back. For so long, he lived in Winterfell thinking he and Robb had formed a sort of respect for each other, despite Theon's position as a hostage. He felt like a fool now.

“If you still agree to this, get on your hands and knees,” Robb said. “We'll finish it. You can leave for Pyke tomorrow.”

_But I don't agree. I don't._

Theon got onto his hands and knees.

-!-

It hurt more than Theon thought it would when Robb entered him. His cock was a lot larger than his slick fingers had been, and that had been uncomfortable enough, even with the oil Robb had used. But the worst part, the most humiliating part, was that once Robb wasn't looking into his face, they became strangers. There was no familiarity, no emotion, nothing to indicate that Robb even knew who Theon was. Their years of growing up together were gone. Theon was no one, just a body. Just a plaything.

Robb's hands, hot and sweaty despite the cool night air seeping into the tent, dug into the flesh at Theon's hips. He had started off slow and controlled, but just when Theon was getting his breath, getting a feel for it, Robb had slammed into him, and after that all semblance of control was gone. It was rough and awkward. There was no feeling involved, except some pain. Theon kept his mouth squeezed tight against the groans and cries building up on his tongue. He tried to concentrate on the way his knees were aching and the way his elbows kept sliding on the rug, so that he had to make a conscious effort to stay propped up on his arms and not get his face shoved into the floor. But none of that really mattered because his ass felt like it was on fire. He couldn't concentrate on anything else except for the burn of another man's cock inside him. Theon let his head hang low and endured. It almost made him glad for the frigidity between them after all. To have to hear Robb talk or whisper or grunt at him would have made it worse. Robb was proving to be a quiet, focused bed partner, at least with Theon.

Which is why it came as a surprise when Robb wrapped his hand in Theon's hair, yanked his head back, stretching his neck at an awkward angle, and leaned in to whisper near his ear, “You're mine, Greyjoy.”

Theon tried without success to dislodge Robb's hand. Wrenching his head away didn't work, only hurt. Robb was not letting go.

“Say it,” Robb said, all low breathy hisses panted out hot against Theon's skin. Theon swallowed the immediate rush of heat that was his anger, and Robb nipped at the shell of his ear. “I need to hear you say it.”

“I'm yours,” Theon said, tight and clipped. _Why am I the only one who had to pledge himself like this?_ Because Theon was sure that none of Robb's other men had had to take his cock up their ass to show him their loyalty.

Robb twisted his fingers tighter in Theon's hair and pushed his face into the ground so suddenly that Theon saw white spots across his vision. With his face smashed to the ground, he couldn't get his hands underneath him again to gain any leverage. Robb slammed their bodies together and released inside of him with a low groan as Theon clutched at the dirt beneath his hands for some sort of support. Spent and panting, Robb slid himself over Theon's back, running his palms down Theon's arms as he did so, circling fingers around his wrists. Theon shuddered at the touch, closed his eyes.

When Robb didn't move for long moments, still inside of him, still spread out on top of him, Theon couldn't help but say, “Are you done?”

Robb pulled out and away, and for a minute Theon couldn't move. His limbs felt watery, so he just lay there in the dirt, prone, trying to pull air into his lungs. He could still feel it where Robb had been, sticky and leaking and aching. Robb put a hand on his back, between his shoulder blades, said in a voice ragged with exhaustion, “Theon. Let me. For you—”

“No.”

“No?” Robb said with disbelief in his voice. “You don't want me to take care of—”

Theon lifted his face from the rug, looked over his shoulder at Robb. “No.” The last thing he wanted was Robb's hands on him. It would feel too much like assent. And there was nothing to finish because he had taken no enjoyment out of the act. He had never known sex to feel like that, so impassive and pleasureless.

“Very well then,” Robb said, and his heat moved away from Theon.

The rustle of Robb redressing was what finally got Theon to push himself to his hands and knees and then to pull himself slowly to a stand. He felt dirty.

“You won't be questioned about your loyalty again. From anyone,” Robb said, pulling on his shirt. “If any man ever so much as hints at disloyalty, tell me. I'll take care of it.”

Theon gave him a sharp smile, all teeth and curled lip. “That's noble of you, Stark.”

“It had to be done if I wanted to be able to keep you at my side. They won't question you anymore.”

Theon found his pants and shirt scattered over the floor. He had never felt so relieved to clothe himself. When he was covered, he said, “This won't be a regular thing. I'm not going to be your whore. Don't summon me in here again.”

Robb paused in picking up his papers from the floor and looked at him, really looked at him, for the first time since they had rutted on the ground. His eyes were dark in the muted light. “No. I'll never ask you to do this again.” He came closer, and Theon had to stop himself from backing away. Before Theon realized what he was going to do, Robb reached up and took Theon's chin between his fingers, his hold light enough to be tender. He tilted in toward Theon's mouth, and Theon wrenched out of his grasp, nearly stumbling backward. He caught himself in time to avoid looking completely foolish.

“I did what you asked of me,” Theon said, already backing away in the direction of the tent's entrance. “We're done.”

He turned and left the tent before another word could be shared between them. Outside, he walked past the men on duty, the two who had brought him to Robb's tent, without giving them a second glance. Behind him, one of the men laughed, and then the other joined in.

Theon turned around to face them, thinking, _He's made a whore of me anyway. I let him. And they know it. They'll all know it come morning._

“Why don't you share the joke?” Theon said. “It sounds like a good one.”

They turned away from him, a clear brush-off, still laughing. He was too tired, bone-weary. What could he say to them when he had Robb's seed seeping out of his ass? Theon went back to his own tent. He cleaned himself with a damp rag, then got into his bed and curled under the furs, his arms wrapped tightly around himself. He thought, _Robb managed to betray me before I could betray him. That's the honor of a king._

-!-

On the open water, with salt air deep in his lungs, Theon felt a weight easing off his shoulders. There was no longer the feeling of eyes on his back, watching his every move. After his test, the mutterings of _betrayal_ and _untrustworthy_ had most certainly lessened, but in their place he had started to receive sneers and averted eyes. As it turned out, being demeaned was worse than simply being distrusted.

Theon folded his arms on the railing and leaned over the water. The sound of the waves slapping against the side of the ship was comforting in a way he had forgotten. He closed his eyes as the ship whipped salty mist up into his face. Perhaps he really was free for the first time in years, and maybe this was what it felt like.

And later, when his father made it clear that there were only two choices, Theon chose freedom.

-!-

He left Theon hanging there on the the cross a long time after he took the first finger. And when he came back, he asked Theon again, “Where are we?”

Theon shook his head, because he knew now. He had had a lot of time to think about it. He didn't want to say any of it aloud, to put a name to this place. It would make it all the more real.

“Come on now,” he said, spreading his arms wide. “Are you going to make me take another finger just to get you to speak?”

“The—” Theon had to swallow past the dryness in his mouth to get his tongue to work. “The Dreadfort.” He raised his eyes in time to see his captor's wide smile.

“Excellent. And who would that make me?”

Theon swallowed again. He didn't even want to say the bastard's name, though he had heard it in passing more than once during his years in the north. It was a name always said with grimaces. “Bolton.”

“Bolton who?”

“Ramsay,” Theon said in a whisper.

Ramsay clapped his hands together, the sound making Theon twitch. “Lord Theon is certainly clever today,” he said, his hands clasped together in a mockery of childish delight, his eyes shining. “Because you've played so well, I'll give you a prize—a little secret, a bit of information.”

He stepped in closer, so close that Theon could smell meat on his breath. He couldn't find the energy to turn or lift his head. He hung there long moments, head down, while Ramsay breathed on him. “Robb Stark told me to find you and take care of you.” Theon sucked in his next breath; it got caught in his throat. “So really, if you think about it, Stark gave you to me. He told me to do whatever I had to do. He called you a traitor, which only seems fair I suppose. You matter nothing at all to him. He gave me quite a bit of encouragement when it came to taking care of his turncloak. I was surprised at his brutality. But, after all, he is a king. Loyal men carry out the king's wishes. Any man worth his salt would be happy to oblige his king. Wouldn't they, Lord Theon?”

There was a small distant part of him screaming, _Robb would never do that. He would finish me himself, like his father would have done._ But it was pushed aside by everything else—the pain and the hunger and the dread and Ramsay looming over him. A groan escaped Theon's mouth when Ramsay slipped gentle fingers into his hair and used the hold to lift his head, putting their eyes level.

Enunciating very carefully, Ramsay said, “I told him I would enjoy it. He seemed pleased by that.”

“No,” Theon said. “No...”

“No? You don't agree?”

“Robb—”

“Robb chose this for you. He tossed you aside just like your father did. So tell me. Why are you here?”

“Because...” Theon blinked, and it seemed to take forever to open his eyes again. It was getting harder and harder to focus. Was this what dying felt like? “Because … I betrayed Robb?”

“Yes,” Ramsay said in a soft tone. He was smiling again, his teeth right in Theon's face. “Yes. You belong here now. Because of Robb.”

Theon didn't know when he had started crying, but the warm wet streaks were sliding down his face, salt in his mouth and on his lips. He didn't think he had enough liquid left in his body for something as useless as tears. He cried without sound, while Ramsay took in the sight with manic hunger and a grin. The tears were all over his tongue now and down his throat. It tasted so much like the sea, like salty wind in his face, like leaning out over the waves—like freedom.

_The End_


End file.
